The Little Death

It was a quarter to 3 in the morning. Harris Craig, early morning TV anchor in Kansas City, was sitting nude at her bedroom vanity. She was getting ready for work.

She leaned into the lights around the mirror, stretched her neck and gently ran a hand from her chin down her throat to her collarbones. She was looking at the distinctive bruising: a thumb shaped, dark purple bruise on one side of her throat and two finger shaped, lighter purple bruises on the other side.

She ran a hand along the side of her right breast, hefted it gently with her palm and thumbed the nipple. There were bruises there too.

And her ass burned.

She closed her eyes remembering the moment.

The bruises and the burning in her rectum were cherished souvenirs of her lovemaking that night.

~~~~~~~~~~

Harris and Bruce lay side-by-side facing each other.

They were slowly kissing and petting. His hands were roaming over her body, gently caressing, probing. From time to time his fingers would find their way under her panties and shallowly enter her ass and sex.

She reached for his cock and held it, slowly pulling on it in a slow, continuous rhythm.

She lifted her head to give Bruce access to the underside of her neck and the shoulder she was laying on.

Before she bent her head down to return the soft bites and licks Bruce was administering, Harris snuck a glance at Melissa, sitting in the overstuffed chair in the sitting room.

Melissa was wide eyed as she watched the couple, Bruce's back to her, the couple's legs intertwined.

This was not the first time she had watched as Bruce and Harris made love; occasionally she even participated.

But tonight was going to be different.

Very different.

Harris bent her head to Bruce's neck moving up to his shoulder. She made eye contact with Melissa again.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as Bruce obviously hit a pleasurable spot and she let it course through her body completely taking in the feeling.

Harris re-established eye contact with Melissa after the wave had passed. Keeping her eyes locked with Melissa's, Harris bent to Bruce's shoulder and kissed it.

The kiss turned into a bite.

Bruce's body jumped slightly but he made no sound.

Harris raised her face so that Melissa could see Bruce's blood smeared on her lips.

Not acknowledging Melissa's shocked looked Harris dropped her head back down and kissed Bruce on the lips. She moved her right leg over the top of his hip and pulled herself closer into him.

Some silent signal passed between the lovers.

Bruce rolled Harris onto her back and sat on his haunches between her splayed legs. He brusquely pushed her oversized t-shirt up off her thighs to her belly and swiftly seized the top of her panties and yanked them down.

Harris made a startled, urgent noise and hurriedly, clumsily helped Bruce get her panties completely off by pulling her legs back and out of them.

Harris again turned her head and sought Melissa's eyes.

She raised her pelvis in response to Bruce's hands on her hips. She took two short gasps of breath as Bruce penetrated her.

She wiggled her hips to help seat herself on his cock, making sure she was pressed tightly against pubic bone.

She smiled inwardly at Melissa's astonished look. Harris felt such wantonness; such abandon, such anticipation and Melissa had never seen her like this.

Harris' body slowly rocked as Bruce took his first thrust forward and back.

Harris smiled a small smile to Melissa as if to convey the bliss was just starting.

Harris held Melissa's eyes until Bruce pulled her t- shirt over her face and then she fell into sync with Bruce's slow rhythm.

Bruce alternated between light caressing touches along the sides of her chest, across her belly and over her breasts with roughly massaging a breast, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it until Harris' body twitched slightly in pain.

Harris never made a sound except for her the increasing sound of her breath.

Bruce pulled the shirt back down off of Harris' face and in a violent, fluid motion ripped it open so that Harris' face, throat and breasts were fully exposed.

Harris's face was covered with sweat, her hair plastered against her forehead. She reached for Bruce's shoulder and pulled him down to her.

Bruce grunted as he shifted position, ripped the pillow from under Harris' head and pressed Harris fully to the bed with his weight.

Urgently Harris sought his mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him.

They sucked each other's tongues urgently, wetly.

Bruce suddenly sat back but the two lovers never broke their slow steady rhythm. Bruce rocked Harris' pelvis up a bit as he took a deeper position inside her.

Harris made a whimpering sound and then hissed, pleaded, "Yes, please..."

Bruce caressed the side of Harris' face and then forced his thumb into her mouth. She sucked greedily on it.

And then as she whimpered, snorting air out her nose loudly, he pressed his thumb down on her tongue and gripped her chin, tipping her head back and arching her throat.

She struggled, her arms flailing by her sides, sounds of protest coming from her. She tried to shake her head "no" but his grip was absolute.

Bruce seemed to enjoy having her arched as she was. He ran his free hand over her belly; massaged it roughly.

The hand moved up and took a breast. Harris seemed on the verge of getting loose from his grip. She managed to turn her head toward Melissa and find her eyes again.

She thought to herself in that split second of time - which for her was beginning to distend - if Lissa could only feelthis.

Oh Melissa, you have no idea...

Harris was jerked back to reality as Bruce slapped first her breast and then her face.

He forced her head back even further. Her strangled sounds of protest increased in volume, her arms moving on the bed, fingers tightly gripping the sheets and then letting them go to convulsively grip again.

He rode higher against her mons and as he changed position this time he released her mouth, sliding his hand down her throat to take a grip.

Harris seemed to enjoy this new position. She smiled mockingly up at Bruce and mouthed, "Yes." This was rewarded with another slap of breast and face.

"Cock-suck-ing Moth-er-FUCKER!" Harris spat at Bruce.

"Fucking CUNT!" Bruce spat back with equal venom.

Harris didn't care, it was part of their "dance." And they were dancing so well tonight.

She wanted his grip.

She wanted him to take her by the throat and thrash her.

She increased her rhythm against him.

Their roles suddenly changed.

Harris now controlled the pace of the rhythm and Bruce controlled her throat and breasts.

She was completely flat on her back, her legs still tightly holding his hips, her arms extended to her sides, fingers crushing the sheets.

Harris violently shook her head - their sign for Bruce to readjust his grip to a more comfortable spot - and tighten it.

She stepped the rhythm up, rocking harder against him.

He reciprocated.

Her eyes started to flutter.

Time completely elongated.

Harris watched a drop of sweat fall from Bruce's chin in slow motion and thenfelt it like a pleasurable shock wave as it hit her breastbone.

Bruce tightened his grip more, increased his thrusts and pulled viciously at her right nipple.

Harris' breathing was raspy, ragged in its rhythm and much louder. She threw a hand up to grip his arm that was pinning her to the bed by her throat and missed.

She moaned plaintively, her eyes partially closed.

Her second attempt to grab his arm succeeded but she only gripped it for a moment and then her hand slid down his arm and fell by her body.

She was starting to cross over, to get in the "zone."

She could feel the anticipation building. She was so near.

Bruce eased his grip just a bit.

He waited until he felt the contractions start in her cunt and then tightened up again briefly and then eased off almost completely.

Harris' legs slid away from his hips, her body went completely limp.

"Harris?" Bruce whispered, stroked her face gently.

She heard him from some long distance. She dimly knew she was supposed to respond to signal she was okay.

She smiled slightly.

The sensations...

God, the sensation was floating. It was euphoric.

She felt transcendent.

She mused in her altered state: Bruce has killed me. He was so sweetly violent. The world no longer exists.

Ohhhhhhh, dearest Lord Jesus, my Lord. This is so sweet. Soooo incredibly sweet.

Harris was vaguely aware of Bruce penetrating her ass. Her body was jerking loosely, like a doll's body, to Bruce's frantic movements inside her.

Hmmmm, have fun with me, my lover. She thought in her altered state. Yes...possess my body, possess me. Use me. So sweet...

Oh, yeah Bruce...I feel your cum...very nice, lover.

Then she was dimly aware of Melissa beside her, kissing her, talking to her frantically.

Was she crying? Was she angry?

"Harris? Harris? God! Harris? Bruce, you fucking bastard, what did you do to her?!" Melissawas frantic.

Time to come back, Harris thought.

So sweet. Ah...well.

"Liss...Lissa...lover..."

She felt Melissa's body move over hers and then heard her hit Bruce several times. "FUCKER! FUCKING BASTARD!"

Harris struggled to sit up with Melissa still over her. "Melissa! I'm okay! I'm okay, baby. I'm feeling very good. It's okay. Shhhhh."

~~~~~~~~~~

Harris smiled to herself, chuckled a bit under her breath at Melissa's fierceness with Bruce.

Poor dear Bruce.

She turned and looked over her shoulder as Melissa Brant came out of the master bathroom, her hair down and damp and a towel wrapped around her. She was getting ready for work too.

"Morning," Harris said cheerfully, as if the night had been a normal night, and then turned back to the vanity and started applying concealer to the bruises.

"Hey, girlfriend," Melissa said as she sat on the end of the bed and watched her lover.

"God, Lissa, thanks so much for getting this concealer for me. It works better than anything I've ever used."

"My pleasure. You know, when we first hooked up and I saw the bruises I thought you'd either been mugged or raped or your husband was a real bastard of an abuser.

"I had no idea."

"Hmmmm," Harris smiled, "this was the first time you've seen us in action like that since we've been partners so now what do you think?"

"I'm not sure what to think.

"Let's see, you are one freaky white woman, I know that.

"Uh, I was so turned on watching you, watching your face, hearing the noises you made, seeing your body move like it did."

"You know Lissa," Harris interrupted, "you and I could do...we could have fun like that too."

"Yeah, but lover, at the same time you and Bruce scared the living shit out of me.

"Why on earth do you do it? Aren't you ever afraid?"

"I do it because it is the most wildly pleasurable feeling I haveever experienced," Harris looked at Melissa in the mirror and then applied a little more makeup.

She stopped, thought a moment. "Well, there was that time I was on assignment in Ecuador," she continued almost wistfully, "and this local tribal shaman shot me up with something - heroin, I think - and forced me to have sex with some female college intern studying the tribe..."

"Oh, yeah," Melissa laughed, "Harris Craig 'forced' to have sex with a college intern. That's a good one!"

"Hey! Shut up!" Harris protested in mock hurt. "She wasn'tthat attractive so, you know," her voice trailed off, "but she gave great head and God, was she was fun to fuck..."

Harris seemed to be lost in the memory for a moment.

Melissa took notice. "You are getting wet sitting there thinking about that intern, aren't you? Aren't you?! You SLUT."

If Melissa only knew.

Remembering the night in bed AND the intern, Harris Craig was on the verge of coming.

But...work. Damn!

"But I'm your sweet slut, don't you forget that. Anyway," Harris snapped out of her reverie and completely sidestepped the question, "for consistentdangerous pleasure, there's nothing like what Bruce does to me.

"Besides he loves me and he's very good at what he does."

Melissa stood and dropped her towel. "Uh huh," she did not sound impressed.

"Baby, throw me those blue panties next to your jewelry case, please."

Harris picked up the panties - a pair of silk high cut briefs - held them to her nose with both hands, inhaled deeply and smiled gleefully. "MMMMMM, how long are you out for this time?"

"Uh, the panties, please, missy?"

"Oh, sorry - NOT," Harris giggled and threw the panties at Melissa. "Remember when we first met? The panties?"

"You arenever going to let me forget that are you?"

Harris picked up another pair of Melissa's panties from the vanity and pressed them to her nose, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"Um, I don't think so: miss former Marine Harrier pilot, little miss tough ass Marine aviator. You wereso out there!" Harris laughed.

"Well," It was Melissa's turn to sidestep, "I'm doing O'Hare to JFK for the next couple of days," she said as she hooked her bra and stepped into her panties.

"I'll have to check my schedule. Then I think I promised another pilot I'd do his LaGuardia to Miami run for a day or two. I'll call you when I get to Chicago."

"I'll miss you."

Melissa came over to Harris, put her arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "I'll miss you too. I'll call you everyday, promise."

"Okay."

Melissa went to the walk-in closet and finished dressing in her captain's uniform; she was a commercial pilot.

When she came out Harris was already dressed in a formal green suit jacket and a pair of fashionably torn jeans.

"No field work today?"

"Nope, my viewers just get me from the waist up. And then I'm shedding the bra and putting on my 'I'm With Stupid' t-shirt and meeting Bruce for lunch."

"You are so bad!"

"I have my moments. Hey, sounds like your ride's here."

Melissa hugged Harris, kissing her lightly on the lips. Harris gave a little whine and kissed her back, harder.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Melissa pulled back slightly but not out of Harris' embrace, "Your lipstick! You'll have to redo when you get to the studio."

"Mmmmm, so? I love you."

Melissa returned the kiss, softly, "And I love you too. I gotta go. Kiss Bruce for me. Tell him I am SO sorry."

Harris laughed gently, "He knows though I think he's going to be sore for a day or two. You can punch, you know. Have a safe tour."

Melissa picked up her bag and then she was out the door headed for the airport van in the driveway.

A few minutes later Harris leaned over her sleeping husband, kissed him twice on the cheek, whispered, "I love you and so does Lissa, she says to tell you she's sorry."

Bruce stirred without opening eyes, grunted, "I know. Love you - and her - damn she can throw a punch."

"See you at lunch."

~~~~~~~~~~

It was 15 minutes before Harris was supposed to meet Bruce for lunch when Harris called him on her cell, disappointment in her voice.

"Honey?"

"Hey, you running late?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking. I'm afraid I'm going to have cancel our lunch date..."

"What's up?"

"You know what a klutz I can be..."

"Harris, what happened? Where are you?"

"Well...I'm very comfortable right at the moment in the ER at St. Luke's. I, uh, well; I twisted my ankle getting out of the car. Tore something in my ankle and my knee AND wrenched my back really bad. Can you come be with me? I think they're going to operate." Her voice cracked a little.

"I'll be right there. Don't be scared."

~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Craig was in far southern Johnson County and by the time he made it to midtown and St. Luke's Harris was already in surgery. Krista Daniels, one of the morning assignment reporters and Toby Helling, her co- anchor were in the surgery waiting room.

Bruce was winded from running in from the parking garage and flustered when the ER clerk told him Harris was already in surgery.

"Guys, what the hell's going on?"

Toby stood and shook hands with Bruce, "Bruce," then he deferred to Krista.

Krista got up and hugged him, "She's okay, big guy. She said to tell you she'd see you later, she loved you."

"She was a little scared, upset that they were taking her before you got here but, they gave her the celebrity treatment, you know." Krista smiled, laughed slightly.

"They took extra good care of her in the ER and gave her something to calm her down and now they're just doing arthroscopic surgery on her ankle and knee."

"Well, so, what happened?"

"She thinks her ankle rolled under her when she stepped out of the Explorer and that took her knee with it and then she twisted to grab hold on to the door to try to keep from going down and screwed her back up."

"Where'd it happen?"

Toby was staring intently at the floor, barely able to suppress a grin, "Uh, Bruce, she was in her parking space. She said there was a butterfly on the hood ornament and she wanted to see it up close."

There was a moment of silence; an awkward moment and then Bruce cracked a grin. "Jesus, she is such a klutz. Her parking space?"

Toby and Krista relaxed, trying (not very hard) not to laugh, "Yeah."

They all sat down to wait.

~~~~~~~~~~

His cell phone roused him from a catnap.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Bruce, hi, it's Lissa. How's your arm?"

"Bruised. Severely."

"Sorry - again. Really Bruce. Hey, uh, where's Harris? I've been trying to get her since Chicago."

"Lissa, you sitting down?"

"In the left hand seat. We're waiting to push back at LaGuardia."

"Ah. Well, Harris had a little accident. Nothing terribly serious but she messed her knee and ankle and back. I'm waiting for her to get out of surgery."

"Oh my God, Bruce! Was she in much pain?"

"No, I think they kept her very comfortable. Anyway, I get to take her home after she wakes up. She's going to be laid up for a while. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, I'm working down in Lynn County this week and next..."

"Hang on a sec, Bruce."

In the background Bruce heard Melissa's silky, contralto voice on the radio, now brassy with military authority.

"LaGuardia Ground this is UAL 5-4-2 for O'Hare. I got a spouse in emergency surgery in KC. Just when theHELL are you going to let me push back?"

"Ah...UAL 5-4-2, LaGuardia Ground...sorry, must have been some ah...radio interference. Uh, say again, are yourequesting an immediate push back?"

"LaGuardia, 5-4-2, that's affirmative."

"5-4-2, LaGuardia Ground, we just so happen to have an immediate opening to push back. Looks like you'll be third in line for runway one three. 5-4-2 cleared to taxiway P, runway one three."

"LaGuardia, 5-4-2," Melissa's voice was now inflecting the way she talks when she 'seduces' Harris, "you are most gracious, sir. 5-4-2 pushing back, taxiway P, runway one three."

"5-4-2, LaGuardia, certainly my pleasure, ma'am. UAL 5-4-2 pushing back, taxiway P, runway one three. God's speed, 5-4-2."

She was back on the phone. "Bruce, I'll be home by 10 or 11 tonight. Gotta go. You take care of our girl."

"Don't worry, Lissa, I will. Love you."

"Love you too, Bruce. See you soon."

Bruce clicked the 'end' button on his phone, rubbed his shoulder where Melissa had pummeled him. "That'll be the quickest flight ever flown New York to O'Hare in a passenger jet," he said quietly to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce and Harris Craig were not the average couple. In fact, in their minds, they weren't a couple at all.

They were in a committed relationship with Melissa.